


Distance

by Daenarii



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: (kind of), Fluff, M/M, Post-Corypheus, Pre-Trespasser, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 14:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12559572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daenarii/pseuds/Daenarii
Summary: The distance between Dorian and Soros is starting to drive Soros mad; luckily, Dorian knows of a way to help ease the hardships.





	Distance

Soros sighed; the freezing night air was biting at his cheeks and his nose, but he did nothing to cover his face. He stood on the balcony of his room at Skyhold, leaning against the stone rail and looking down at the snow-covered mountains below, the star-sprinkled sky glittering above him like an ornate blanket as the crescent of the moon hovered lazily behind soft, dusty gray clouds.

He should’ve been asleep hours ago. He _wanted_ to be asleep; his temples still throbbed every now and again from the paperwork he’d been working through, and his eyes still ached. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, idly wondering if he’d have to get spectacles soon.

He moved his hand from his face to the pendant around his neck, wrapping his fingers around it gently. It was a comfort to know he could reach Dorian just by opening the locket and rubbing a finger across the surface of the crystal within. He was tempted to do just that, but he didn’t want to wake Dorian if he’d found sleep.

Ever since they’d defeated Corypheus four months prior and Dorian had gone to Tevinter, Soros had felt...off. His days were full of paperwork and moments of training he could squeeze in, to ensure he didn’t grow rusty. He longed to be in the field, to travel the land again, to see the world with his own eyes, to be surrounded by real nature instead of the walled-in mockeries within Skyhold.

He was tempted to leave--to climb the wall at that moment and disappear into the mountains for an indeterminate amount of time. Pride and loyalty kept him rooted to the spot, however; he would never abandon his friends, no matter how many stuffy nobles came to turn their noses up at him.

Soros felt the pendant grow slightly warmer in his hand, and he frowned, looking down at it before flipping open the golden door with his thumb. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across the surface of the emerald, which began to emit a dull glow at his touch.

“Dorian?” Soros asked, his voice rough.

“How did I know you’d be awake?” came the tinny response from the crystal, reverberating a little. It couldn’t properly capture the richness of Dorian’s voice, and Soros quite often found himself disappointed at that.

“I imagine you just wanted to try your luck,” Soros responded, the hint of a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t spoken to Dorian in a few days--they’d both been too busy, he assumed. “What are you doing awake?”

“Trying my luck,” Dorian mocked, the edge of a chuckle in his voice. “In all seriousness, I just wished to speak to you again.”

“In the middle of the night?” Soros asked.

“It’s not like you were doing anything more important, yes?” Dorian challenged. “You were just staring at the mountains again, I’d wager, on your balcony.”

Soros stayed silent, frowning at his predictability.

Dorian let out a victorious chuckle. “Ah-ha! See? I know you so well, _amatus_ ,” he said, a smile in his voice. They lapsed into silence, and a soft noise echoed from the crystal--a creaking, the opening of a door, perhaps?--before Dorian asked, a touch more serious, “What’s on your mind? Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Soros sighed, bending his head to rub his fingers through his hair, making it stick up even more than it already was. “I don’t know,” he grumbled.

“I’m sure you’ve _some_ idea.”

Soros hesitated, before shaking his head--he could share his thoughts, here, in private. “I’ve been surrounded by nothing but nobles and walls for months now,” he complained. “There’s a stack of papers a mile high on my desk that I’m expected to read, and nobles keep visiting and insisting to see me so I can hear their plights for their land, or their inheritance, or their research. I just want to tell them all to shove off so I can go disappear...somewhere.” He stayed silent for a moment, a weight off his chest, though he felt a little guilty. “I know it seems childish,” he sheepishly added.

“It’s not childish,” Dorian reassured. “You’ve been working hard. You deserve a vacation. I could come with you. We could visit Antiva City and gamble away our lives, or even camp somewhere, if you’d prefer. I find the wilderness is _much_ more tolerable with you around.”

Soros smirked a moment at the thought. “That sounds...nice,” he said softly. “It’s unfortunate you’re all the way over there, and I’m all the way over here.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Dorian said. “Distances are rather easy to traverse nowadays.” There was another creaking of a door on his end.

“Where are you walking to so late at night?” Soros asked. “You know it’s not safe to walk around unaccompanied at night, I hope.”

Dorian tutted. “I’m fine,” his voice lowering in volume. “I’m nowhere dangerous, I assure you.”

“Assassins don’t have areas that are off-limits,” Soros argued. “They can attack anywhere. I need you--” He stopped himself short, shaking his head. “You need to be careful,” he murmured instead, rubbing his thumb against the back of the pendant, staring absently at the mountains below.

“Hmm,” Dorian hummed, “what was that about you needing me? I rather liked the sound of that.”

Soros huffed. “I need you _to be safe_ ,” he clarified. He thought he heard something from the room behind him--someone scuffing a footstep on the rug, perhaps--but when he glanced over his shoulder, he just saw his unoccupied bedroom.

Soros sighed, facing forward once again and hanging his head. Dorian didn’t respond, and the crystal in the pendant stopped glowing. Soros felt worry alight like a small flame in the pit of his stomach. He kept a hand on the pendant, in case it warmed up again, but it remained cool to the touch.

Soros hung his head, feeling helpless, and murmured, “I need you to be here right now.”

“I suppose I’ve got wonderful timing, then, as usual,” a voice said behind Soros, shattering the silence.

Soros whirled around, reaching for his bow before realizing with a small curse he didn’t have it. His gaze settled on the person in his bedroom, and he dropped his hand in shock.

“Dorian?” he asked, incredulous.

Dorian smiled. He leaned against the stone arch separating Soros’ bedroom from the balcony. The moonlight slanted over him like a spotlight, making the metal studs on his clothes glitter. His onyx hair seemed longer and messier than Soros knew Dorian liked it to be.

“In the flesh,” Dorian confirmed, strolling towards Soros. “You know, it’s _incredibly_ difficult to sneak up on you.”

Soros was too surprised to come up with a properly witty response. He continued staring at Dorian, feeling as if he’d disappear without a moment’s notice. “What are you doing here?” Soros asked, his heart soaring with joy.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Dorian said flippantly, waving a hand. “You know how it is.”

“Do I?” Soros asked, as Dorian drew closer. “I see Tevinter reaches farther south than I’d thought.”

Dorian grinned, his teeth flashing in the moonlight, stopping a few inches from Soros. “Since you _insist_ on interrogating me, I’ll have to tell you the truth: I...missed you.”

“I hope you didn’t shirk any of your duties by coming,” Soros said, trying to force down the big grin creeping across his face in an attempt to look scolding.

“I’m the paragon of responsibility!” Dorian replied, indignant, as he held a hand to his chest. “I’m insulted you would think otherwise.”

Soros laughed, stepping closer to Dorian. “I believe you, ma vhenan,” he murmured, reaching out to wrap his arms around Dorian.

Dorian huffed, not yet moving his own arms to reciprocate. “I’m tempted to just leave.”

“No you’re not,” Soros grumbled into Dorian’s shoulder. He smelled unlike himself--snow and smoke, with the faint burning tang of magic. But underneath it all was the regular scent that Soros had grown to love.

Dorian let out a small chuckle, wrapping his own arms around Soros and pulling him closer. After a moment, he murmured against Soros’ neck, “I can’t stay long.”

“I know,” Soros murmured back. Dorian’s arms had chased away the chill, and Soros felt impossibly warm. “But at least we have this.”

“At least we have this,” Dorian agreed softly.

They stood in each other’s arms for what felt like hours; Soros knew Dorian’s visit would be all too short, but he was content--for the moment.


End file.
